Devil's Trap
by omalleyanatomy26
Summary: Sam shoots John when John orders him too. He kills the demon but kills their father too. Afterwards he is consumed with guilt and can't stand the fact that Dean won't look or speak to him. So he thinks about killing himself. PLEASE REVIEW! UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1

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I've always wondered what would happen if Sam shot and killed John. I truly believe that would devestate him, not to mention, jeapordizing his relationship with Dean. Sorry if this isn't exactly the way it went, but this is basing it on memory :)

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"I can feel it inside of me!" John pleaded to Sam. "Shoot me, Sam! Go ahead! Shot me!"

"No Sammy," Dean grunted weakly as he was pinned to the wall. "Don't. No."

"SHOOT ME!"

His father's voice, the drill sergeant of the family was pounding in Sam's ears. He remembered the look in John's eyes as he tortured Dean in front of Sam, and knew for a fact that that wasn't his father.

"SHOOT ME!" John was begging now. Really begging. Tears in his eyes. Sam shook his head, his own cheeks wet.

"I can't," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Shoot me, now that's an order goddamn it! I can't control it forever, Son! Shoot me!"

"No Sammy, please no." Dean was also begging. Begging for him not to shoot their father.

Sam's hands shook as he held the gun. He was faced with an impossible choice. Inside John was the demon they had hunted their whole lives. But should that revenge really be worth jeapordizing their father? But if he didn't, he'd be putting his life and Dean's life at risk.

"Shoot me!"

Suddenly John's eyes changed to a darker shade of black as he started to rise. Sam's finger was already on the trigger, so on instinct he pulled.

The bullet went straight through John's head, sending an electrical shock through his body.

"NOOOO!" Dean screamed in agony as the grip was released from him and he fell to the floor. "Dad!"

Ignoring Sam, who had now dropped the gun in utter shock, he raced towards John, catching him before he fell.

But even Dean knew that John was already dead. He had been dead as soon as he was hit in the head with that bullet. Tears filled his eyes nonetheless, though, as he held his dead father's body in his arms.

"How could you?" He hissed with hurt and hatred mixed as one. He didn't have to look at Sam to speak to him. "You hated him so much that you had to..."His body shook in rage and agony as his voice trailed off.

"Dean I'm.." Sam shook his head, still numbed with shock. He knew whatever he said wouldn't undo the pain and anger that Dean was feeling. Or sooth the guilt that had eveloped his body. So slowly, still staring at the gun, he left Dean alone as he held their father.

Their father that Sam had to kill to save them. Their father who died to protect his sons....

**Should I continue? PLEASE REVIEW! **


	2. Chapter 2

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Didn't think I'd get reviews so quickly! So I guess I should continue? :)

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**Chapter 1

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Sam stared at the gun in his hands. His father's voice echoing in his head.

_"Shoot me!"_

Dean's voice when he did.

_"How could you?"_

_How could you_

He looked up when Dean walked out. Dean didn't bother to say anything as he passed him.

"Dean I-" His voice trailed off when he realized that Dean was ignoring him.

With shaking hands Dean called Bobby.

"Bobby, it's Dean...I have some news to tell you." It was than he turned to face Sam when he spoke again. "Dad's dead." The look on his face, the accusation and almost hatred on it was enough to tear Sam apart.

Sam turned away as Dean continued to tell what happened, and continued to stare at his brother, self loathing in his eyes. When Dean hung up he walked back to the building. He paused in front of Sam

"Bobby's coming to help burn and torch the body," he said gruffly. Sam nodded.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he started to say but Dean shook his head. Too many emotions were clouding his judgment. He felt anger at Sammy. Anger as he never felt before. He didn't like that feeling. And he felt pain. Pain for the guilt that Sam must be weighing on his shoulders. But the anger overconsumed the pain and pity he might have been feeling for his brother. He couldn't get that scene out of his head. Sam shooting his father like that. So quickly, so coldly.

"Just don't Sam," he said stiffly. He shook his head and rubbed it with his hand. "Just don't. I just can't...not now. Just, don't."

Sam bit his lip.

"I didn't mean to, you have to believe me..."

"I said DON'T!" Dean shouted. "Right now I can't look at you, Sam. I can't look at you and not see you shooting dad. I can't, so I won't. And I can't talk to you right now because if I do, I'm gonna say something I'm gonna regret. Out of anger. I just...no, not right now. It's too soon."

Sam swallowed.

"I don't know what else to say...."

Dean shook his head.

"There's nothing _to _say Sam. You killed dad-"

"He told me to!"

"You killed him," Dean repeated. "And I can't change that. I can't change the fact that I watched my brother kill our father."

"He wasn't our father! A demon was posessing him, Dean! I had no choice." Sam was pratically crying as he spoke. Pratically begging. "I had no choice," he repeated, sounding like a lost kid. Dean stared at him.

"Great," he said, his voice thick with sarcasim. "I hope that helps you sleep at night." With that he stalked off. He knew what he said was harsh. Harsher than anything he had ever really said before. But he couldn't help it. This was exactly why he didn't want to talk to Sammy. He was worried about the things he would say at the heat of the moment. He stared at his father's body.

Hours later Bobby's truck pulled up. As he came out it was easy to see how messed up Sam was. Sam had his head hung down, his back hunched over as he sat, the gun at his feet.

"Sam," said Bobby gently. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked up, his face flushed from crying.

"You heard?" He asked softly and Bobby nodded.

"Well, I heard Dean's version of what happened," he said. "That you shot John. Killed him. He sounded too upset to really talk about what happened. To give much detail."

"Dad kept on telling me to shoot him," Sam snifted. "Over and over in that drill sergeant voice of his. 'Shoot me!' And I couldn't. But than therer was that momen when the demon took control of his body again and rose up and I just pulled. Without thinking I just pulled." He shook his head. "It was an accident," he said, as if trying to reassure himself. "An accident."

"The one time you decided to obey dad," said Dean dryly from behind. "And that was when he asked you to kill him."

Bobby rose instantly at that remark.

"Now look here, boy," he growled. "You're brother's going through hell right now-"

"Oh, and I'm not?!" Dean shot back. "I had to watch my _brother _kill our _father_!"

"Think about what Sam's goin' through right now!" Bobby challenged him. "You had to watch your father die? He had to KILL his! And not only that, he had to listen to his telling him to do it! You ought to show a bit more respect or at least understandin' and sympathy for what your brother's goin' through. What if it was you that pulled the trigger?"

"It wouldn't," scoffed Dean.

"No?" Bobby asked. "Are you sure? What if that demon inside of him was hurting Sam? Would you have done it than? If he was hurting Sam?"

"Like he was with you," Sam quickly added, though that might not have been the best thing to do at that moment.

Dean stared at Sam and saw the hurt in his eyes. The pleading for Dean to forgive. But Dean couldn't forgive. Not right now. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I just can't. It's to soon. I just, I can't. I can't talk to you right now Sam. Like I said, I can't look at you. And if I can't do that, how can I forgive you? It's just too soon. It's not time."

"When is it ever going to be the right time, Dean? When?" Sam challenged helplessly. Dean shrugged helplessly.

"Maybe never," he said honestly and turned to Bobby. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Bobby sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue and walked into the building.

That was when the tears came. His own brother hated him now. Sam could tell. Dean couldn't even look at him anymore. He truly was a freak. A hated freak too.

And with that he sat back down at the curb of the sidewalk again and buried his head into his arms.

Dean listened to his brother's sobs before shutting the door. He shook his head. A part of him wanted to go out to Sammy and hug him, but it was just too soon. It was just too soon. And a thought terrified him.

Would their relationship ever be like it was again? Or is it ruined? Is this how it's going to be like from now on, forever?

**PLEASE REVIEW! **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm deciding to update some of my more older fics because I miss getting reviews in my email :) Hint, hint!

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Sam wiped the tears from his eyes. He still stared at the gun. He shook at the thoughts that was running through his head. It would be so easy now, to pull the trigger and end all the suffering. Especially since Dean hated him now. He shook his head, biting his lip. No, he didn't deserve that kind of release. He had to suffer some more. Suffer for what he had done to his family. Suffer for killing their father.

He also had to get away. Had to breathe. Quickly he left, and ran to the nearest bar. In the back they laid John Winchester down on the sticks that they had put together. Bobby cleared his throat.

"I know you're pissed at Sam right now," he said softly and Dean glowered at him.

"Pissed is an understatment," he hissed dangerously. Bobby nodded.

"But shouldn't he be here too? It's not like he wanted to...shoot John."

Dean closed his eyes, knowing the answer to that question. He finally nodded.

"You get him, though," he said stiffly. "I can't talk to him right now."

Bobby sighed, swallowing his anger, and nodded. He went to the front porch.

"Sam?" He called. "Sam?!" He stared down the dirt road and saw the footprints heading towards the town. "_Damn it_!" He cursed angrily, slamming the door. He should never have left that kid alone in the state he was in. He walked towards the back.

"Where is he?" Dean asked, looking up. Worry was in his eyes. While he wanted to hate his brother for what happened he couldn't deny that he was also worried about the kid. That he still cared for him.

"He left," Bobby muttered. "Towards town. Probably at one of the bars or something." He sook his head. "I shouldn't have left him alone."

"Yeah, well you did," Dean snapped. "Sam obviously didn't want to be here to burn dad, not that I blame him. So let's just get this over with. Okay?" He sighed at the hurt and worried look on Bobby's face. "Than we'll go look for him," he added in a mumble and Bobby slowly nodded.

Both stood there in silence as John Winchester's body burst into flames. Dean swallowed and swallowed again, every part of him aching, as he watched the flames rise and dance to no where. He kept on blinking back the tears that tried to blind him. His father was dead. And why? Because his little brother killed him. So many mixed emotions. He hated Sammy, he really did. But the other part of him knew that he still loved his brother. No matter what Sammy did, that love couldn't be killed. No matter how badly he wanted it too. Why couldn't he just hate his brother in peace? It's not like Sam deserved to be loved anymore. After all, he killed their father. And Dean had to watch as the bullit hit the head.

Anger was trying to take control. Dean could feel it. It terrified him. They continued to watch in silence until the dusk fell and the fire dimmed. He sighed and turned to Bobby.

"All right," he said softly. "Let's go find Sam."

Bobby nodded, still not sure what to say.

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"Hey, bartender," Sam slurred. "Pour me 'nother, will ya?"

The bartender sighed.

"Don't you think you've had enough son?" He asked. He had seen enough alcoholics to know the tye. This kid didn't fit in the package.

Sam shook his head.

"No, my father just died," he snapped. "I don't think I've had enough."

'Well' thought the bartender. 'That explained it'

He poured Sam another glass.

"No more," he warned him. Sam pretended not to hear as he chugged it like it was water. Finally he stumbled outside, unable to see straight, ignoring the bartenders plea to call a cab. He didn't deserve help from _anyone_. Not after what he did.

He saw a group of men surrounding a young girl. She was about a teenager and clearly looked out of place.

"Want me to buy you a drink?" One sneered. She shook her head, fear in her eyes.

"No thanks, I'm just waiting for my brother," she said, her voice shaking. "To get off work..."

"While you wait, why don't you entertain us?" Other one laughed, moving in towards his face.

"Hey!" Sam shouted suddenly, surprising himself. "She said no you asshole."

The group turned and the girl put her hand over her mouth in fear.

"You talkin' to us, kid?" One of them asked. Sam just stared at him, anger fuming in his eyes.

"Yeah I am, you pathetic dick." He never spoke like that. But releasing the anger felt good for a change. Suddenly the men had him surrounded. One of them had a club in his hand. Another a knife.

"Let's get him boys!" The leader, the one that had hit on the girl first, yelled with excitment. The girl screamed and ran as they jumped him, dragging him back to the alley. He didn't fight back as he allowed the blows to hit his head. Blood was dripping everywhere. His ribs were broken. A knife rammed into his chest. He shouted in pain on instinct, but really this was what he deserved. Maybe he was even looking for a fight. He wanted this pain. After what he did to his father, it seemed like a just punishment. So he allowed them to continue to beat him, hitting his head over with a baseball bat, until he collapsed on the ground and passed out. In a bored manner they decided it was enough and left him for dead. The knife still in his chest.

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Dean sped towards the town and Bobby pointed to the nearest and only bar in it. Dean's eyes widend as he saw what looked like Sam's jacket laying on the pavement in front of the bar. Not bothering to park he stopped the car in the middle of the parking lot.

"Sam?!" Protectiveness consumed him. He knew something was wrong. He just sensed it. He ran to the jacket. It was covered in blood. Feeling sick he continued to call Sam's name and than noticed the trail of blood leading towards the alley. The bar was far too noisy for anyone to notice him shouting like a maniac. They didn't even hear the fighting that had just happened. Partly because Sam barely cried out in pain and bore it in silence. Dean ran to the alley and neasua consumed him momentarily as he saw his brother laying on the ground, covered in blood.

"Oh my God," he breathed. Bobby stood next to him in shock. Dean had just lost his father. He _couldn't _lose his brother too. "Sammy?! Sammy!" He raced to his brother, praying for Sam to be all right. Praying that they weren't too late...

**Like it? Hate it? Whatever you feel, please review and let me know! Please, with cherry on top? Yes I love Sam angst but I know you do to! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, thanks for all the great reviews! :) Keep them coming!**

**I decided that this was far too mean of a cliffhanger to leave you at! :)

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Dean shook Sam's body, tears in his eyes.

"No," he mumbled. "No." He _couldn't _lose his brother too. Not so soon after losing John. He didn't deserve to be the only one left living. He wasn't worth it. Bobby knelt beside him.

"Is he breathin'?" He asked softly. Shaking Dean checked, while also feeling for a pulse.

"Yeah," Dean said softly. "Yeah, he's still breathing. He's still alive." Relief washed over him, giving him momentary hope. Sam was still alive. There was still hope.

"We'll get him back to our place," Bobby told Dean. "See if I can stitch him up. If not, we'll go to the hospital. It's best that we hunters stay out of those places the best we can, though. The doctors and the cops, they always ask too many damned questions."

Dean nodded, firmly agreeing with the elderly hunter's opinion. Quickly he scooped up his brother, the knife still in him. Bobby said it was best to leave it in. While it was painful, it kept Sam from losing to much blood.

Dean was shaking as he climbed into the backseat of the Impala, allowing Bobby to drive. He was too concerned for his brother's safety to notice how unusual that was.

Bobby arrived at his place in record time. Even Dean was impressed, though he didn't say anything. They carried Sammy to the kitchen table and Bobby cleared the junk that was on it. Then he ripped open the shirt. The chest was drenched in blood. In better light Dean was also able to really see how bruised Sam's face was.

"Jesus," Bobby muttered. "How many jumped him?"

"I don't know," Dean growled in a dangerous tone. "But whoever did it, when I found out who they are there will be hell to pay." He tightened his fists as he said that.

Sam moaned and they stared at him sharply, but the young man did nothing else.

"You're not gonna want to see me stitching up your brother," Bobby warned Dean. "I suggest you turn your back."

Muttering Dean obeyed, knowing that Bobby was right about that. He really didn't want to see Sammy's blood spilling out of him. After what seemed like hours later Bobby had finished taking out the knife and stitching up the large gashing wound that was across the chest.

Finally he was finished.

"Will he recover?" Was Dean's first question and Bobby nodded.

"He well, but he'll be bedridden for a while. Not only were his ribs broken, but so's his arm and leg. I'll have to make a cast for both of them. And I bandaged the ribs. It'll be best if he doesn't move very much. He's going to have someone watch over him. He's not really going to be able to sit up, so he won't be able to feed himself well and he'll need someone to help clean him up after he goes to the bathroom. Don't worry, I'll get something for that as well."

"I'll do it," Dean said quickly, most of the anger fleeing from him. At least for a while. Bobby nodded solmenly.

"I thought you would," he said softly. With Dean's help they moved Sam into the guest room. It wasn't fancy and it was more of a storage area but Bobby made sure they had room. Dean sat down nex tto the bed, determined not to leave his brother's sight.

"I shouldn't have left you alone, Sammy," he whispered. "Not even after our fight...it's still my responsbility to look after you, and for that I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I'm so sorry for failing you," he whispered. "I wanted to hate you so much, but I can't. Even after this I just...I can't hate you Sammy. I just can't."

Sam moaned at his touch and his eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw in his blurred vision was Dean.

"Dean?" He whispered.

"Sammy?" Dean sat up sharply. "Don't try to sit up, Sammy. You're ribs are broken. And you have a wound on your chest." He sighed. "You're in pretty bad shape," he admitted. Sam blinked, adjusting to his surroundings.

"What happened?" He asked softly.

'You tell me," Dean said quietly. "You took off on us, Sammy. When I found you, you were bleeding to death in the alley."

Sam shuddered in memory of the punches and the stabbing. He closed his eyes, tears fell.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he mummbled. "For shooting Dad. I...I didn't mean to! I swear..."His voice broke and Dean's eyes widened.

"You're worried about _that_?" He shook his head. "Sammy, you should just be worried about getting better."

"But you hate me," Sam muttered. "I know you do. I don't deserve to live anymore, for killing dad."

Dean stared at him.

"Sam," he said slowly. "Did you fight back when you were attacked? Or did you allow them to beat you up?"

Sam said nothing. But that silence said everything. Dean closed his eyes, careful not to lose his temper.

"I know I've been hard on you lately, Sammy," he said. "And this...this will take some time to heal. I understand that. For both of us. But you shouldn't try and kill yourself over it."

"You can't look at me the same way anymore, can you?" Sam challenged Dean and Dean didn't respond, not knowing how. "I thought so," Sam said. He noticed an old looking gun that had fallen to the floor next to his bed when Bobby had picked up some boxes from the nightstand. He was careful not to mention it.

"I know you hate me," Sam added. "Right now you're worried about me, but when I'm well you'll go back and hate me again. And I don't blame you. I shot dad. I deserved to get beaten up. I only wish that they..."

"Don't say it," Dean snapped. He shook his head. "Aren't I supposed to be the self loathing one in the family here?" Sam didn't respond. Deam sighed, frusteration. That old anger _was _creeping up inside of him. He should leave before he lost it. Sam always knew how to push him.

"Look, maybe I should leave you alone for a few moments," he said quietly. Sam nodded eagerly, still thinking of the gun. At first suicide seemed like the easy solution. Now it seemed like the _only _solution. He couldn't look at Dean's face. Sure Dean said he didn't hate him, but Sam could see the truth in his brother's eyes. And he couldn't stand it.

"I'll get you some dinner," Dean decided and left. As soon as he was gone, Sam managed to reach to the floor with his good hand and picked up the forgotten gun. He didn't have much time. Carefully, trying to control the shaking of his hand, he raised the gun and pointed it to his mouth and fired...

**Yes, I realize that is an even more evil cliffie, but I couldn't resist! It's a definant way for me to get reviews! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews!

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Dean heard the gun go off. He dropped the dinner trey in horrified shock. Forgetting to breathe he raced to the guest room. He instantly vomitted at the sight of his brother's blood that was splattered everywhere.

"No," he whispered, knees almost buckling. What had just happened was incomprehensable to him. His brother _had shot himself_. Maybe it was like before, in the alley Where he thought Sam was dead, but Sammy was still alive. But he knew the truth. His bolted to the bed and he put his hand over to his mouth as he saw Sam's wide dead eyes. The gun in his gaping mouth. Blood draining out from the back of the head. Yes, Sam was very dead.

Bobby flew to the doorway then, but Dean was blocking his view.

"What happened?" He gasped. "I heard a gunshot when I was outside..."

Silently Dean moved aside. Bobby stared at Sam's dead body, unable to show emotion.

"No." he breahted. He couldn't believe that they would lose both John and Sam. And Sam so soon after John. It was impossible, and yet it was very real. Dean stared in paralized shock. His brother was dead. And to make it worse, Sammy died thinking that Dean hated him. That was far from the truth. Bobby stood there. How was he supposed to act in this kind of situation? This whole thing was foriegn to him. He was still trying to grasp the fact that Sam Winchester had shot himself.

"Dean..."He trailed off, not really knowing what he was going to say .

"Please leave." Dean was surprised that he was still able to form words. "Just leave." Bobby nodded, chosing how to obey.

Dean stood there, trying to remember how to breathe. How to feel. How to care. How to be human. Than he remembered one thing. He remembered how to cry. So he did.

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For the next few days Dean didn't remember much. He was too drowned with liquir to really remember anything. Sometimes he even forgot who he was. But he always remembered Sam. He could never forget Sam. One of the things he remembered that he loved about the bar was that he could drink in bitter peace. That no one bugged him. No one asked questions. So he wasn't that pleased when he saw a dark haired woman sauntering over to him.

"I'm not in the mood, lady," he growled.

"Relax, suger," she laughed. "I'm not looking for a one night stand, though for you I might make an exception." He raised his eyes in mild surprisement, but by than his eyes were so red, puffy, and glazed that it wasn't very expressive.

"Than what do you want?" He asked in an exhausted tone.

"Is there anything you wish to have, more than anything?"

He frowned. Did she know?

"What do you mean?" He snapped.

"What is it that you most desire? Fame? Fortune, talent, a career? It can be yours. For a price of course."

Dean snorted.

"Sorry, lady. What I want is something you can't get me." She smiled.

"Try me."

"Can you bring my brother back from the dead?"

She looked surprised but than collected herself.

"Yes," she said, calmly. Her eyes changed black. "It's not completly unheard of."

He stared at her, tensing. He had left the colt in the Impala. But he backed away, touching the holy water.

"What the hell are you?" He snarled.

"I'm the demon that can bring back your precious brother, for a price of course," she snapped. "So get away from that Holy Water, Dean Winchester." She smiled at his look. "Yes, don't look so surprised. I knew who you were the instant I saw you. Now, do you want to talk buisness with me or not?"

He swallwed.

"What's the price?" He whispered. He couldn't afford not to ask.

"Your soul, of course. In 10 years I will come to collect it," she said, smiling at him. "But hey, 10 years is a lifetime! And it sure beats the alternative of being alone, doesn't it?"

He shuddered, gulping more liquir.

"What about my dad?"

"Sorry suger, only one dead body at a time."

He didn't have to think much. His soul wasn't worth anything. It deserved to go to hell. He had to get Sammy back. Finally he nodded.

"Good," she purred. "Than let's seal this, shall we?" Quickly she leaned over and locked lips, causing him to be surprised and disgusted.

A few minutes later he stumbled to the Impala and barely managed to drive home. He didn't really believe this deal would work. It was too good to be true. But nonetheless he ran towards the guest room and stared in disbelief as he saw Sammy sitting up, looking like he had never been wounded.

"Sammy," he breathed. "Thank God." And he went over to embrace his brother. That made the entire deal completly worth it. Just seeing him again. But than his brother did something unthinkable. He pushed Dean back and stared at him with large fearful eyes.

"Who are you?" He whispered and Dean stared at him in horror, wondering if what they brought back was his brother, and how much of Sam was really in there...

**Odd ending, I know, but I'm kind of rushed here but wanted to update. lol. I hope you like the twists! I decided to be bold by killing off Sammy but don't worry, when he starts remembering there's still gonna be plenty of guilt ridden Sam in the next few chapters! And a guilt ridden Dean. :) So PLEASE review!**


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